After bullocking into the scene in 1999, La Troya Asesina at Amnesia soon caught the attention of kinky trendy young things. From the off it was more than a gay party. The music was too good to confine to a ghetto for a start and there was something indescribably intense about the post dawn atmosphere.
Resident hero-to-homos Dj Oliver has always been particularly adept at holding the crowd at nearly breaking point for hours till finally smacking them upside the head so hard with the big hits of the day that it really didn't matter if you liked boys, girls or farmyard animals, you just knew you were a long way up and not likely to come down anytime soon.
Interestingly La Troya has never been overrun by the British. It was then and is now overwhelmingly Latin-flavoured, the only guiris who got in were workers with local connections and clued-up queer tourists. This association continues in 2004 where La Troya is big with visitors from the Iberian Peninsula and South America in the same way that Manumission is with the English.
Unavoidably this has led to a dilution of the man-love aspects of the fiesta, though the sexed-up vibe keeps cruisers of all orientations more than happy. It's massive popularity has also led to an upgrade in the productions levels which have reached outrageously lavish levels, especially for the justifiably famous 'Brasil' party, which last week celebrated the namesake country of the party's founder and organiser, Brasilio de Oliveira.
It was rammed. And hot, like a bath house. We arrived at 2.30am-ish and were courteously ushered in by a massive do' ho with pecs each as big as your head. The punters we encountered were very good humoured but there was only so much rubbing shoulders with sweaty freaks we could handle so we flashed our wrist bands to the guy guarding the elevated (and nicely air conditioned) VIP area and whaddya know we were in. From there we observed the dirty deeds of the downstairs ravers who were getting down demonically.
By 4 o'clock they had stopped letting people in till the crush had eased and the traffic queue outside the club was approximately two kilometres long in each direction, and growing.
The action tho had only just begun, as there was still the afterhours at Space to contend with. La Troya Asesina - too fast, too ferocious.